


Rare Quiet Moments

by nazgularepeopletoo



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Let Them Sleep, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 06:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30135507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo
Summary: Winnant and Bolton just need to rest, they have too much to worry about.
Relationships: Commander Bolton/Colonel Winnant
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: "Are you warm enough?"





	Rare Quiet Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a continuation of my first ever Dunkirk fic published March 2018! Can be read alone but check that one out too :3

Winnant stirred slightly, not wanting to open his eyes just yet. There was something nagging at him, something important, but he pushed it away. It wasn’t that he was comfortable, far from it actually, he just felt exhausted. Cold was seeping through his uniform from his back, the seat of his pants, and wherever the chilled breeze happened to hit him. On the other hand, his left side was warm, so he pressed closer to it. 

“Are you warm enough?” The quiet voice startled him fully awake. He straightened, eyes flying open and nearly hitting his head on the rail above him. The man beside him snorted. 

“Careful now, I was letting you sleep. You looked like you needed it.” Bolton leaned into his line of sight, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling any better?” 

Winnant nodded, feeling a blush start on his cheeks and creep down his neck. He cleared his throat, did it again, then nodded again.

“I’m, yes I’m feeling fine.” It was then he realised Bolton’s hand was still lightly resting in his. He pulled it away, flush deepening when Bolton huffed out another laugh. Needing something to do, but not willing to stand up yet, he straightened his hat. “I  _ was _ feeling fine before, you know. I didn’t  _ need _ to sleep.” They both knew he was lying. 

“The next ship will be here within the half hour,” Bolton changed the subject, content with teasing Winnant later. He stood, biting back a groan, then offered a hand to Winnant. Neither of them were young enough to be sitting on the ground, and he knew they both would be feeling it for hours. The colonel took his hand, avoiding eye contact in favour for staring with squinted eyes off the mole, trying in vain to see the ship that was meant to be coming. 

“Are you sure about that…? I’d rather not tell the men a lie again.” One of the ships they’d been told was coming hadn’t shown the day before, which was one reason why Winnant hadn’t been sleeping.

“Remember what I said about you being Army?” That got Winnant’s eyes back on him, albeit in a half-hearted glare. “Wait until it’s on the horizon, that’ll be enough time to ready the men.” 

  
  


Bolton kept his eye on the taller man for the next few hours. The ship arrived on time for once, and Winnant hovered around, directing people the whole time until it was full and the gang plank was retracted. Somehow he looked even more tired than he had been, dark circles prominent and skin much paler than usual. He looked cold, which made Bolton grateful for his pea coat. 

Once the ship was gone it always took the men a while to settle again; sometimes fights broke out as people moved forward in the line. Bolton took advantage of the calm to hook his hand around Winnant’s arm again, drawing him back to the end of the mole. Winnant looked like he was going to argue, but Bolton stopped him. 

“It’s my turn to sleep. You’re keeping watch this time.” Winnant huffed, but nodded.

“Alright, if you say so.” 

Bolton pulled him back onto the deck, knowing that it would be hell on his hips later, but he was going to get Winnant more sleep if it killed him. They huddled close, bodies pressed together to try and conserve heat between them. It worked, marginally. Winnant signalled one of Bolton’s inferiors, asking quietly if he couldn’t find a blanket. It was delivered promptly, and soon they were both under it. 

“Now, are  _ you _ warm enough?” They both laughed, Bolton daring to rest his head on Winnant’s shoulder, feigning a yawn. 

“I am. Don’t move unless there’s an emergency.” 

  
  


It wasn’t long before they were both asleep.


End file.
